


We Can Park In The Back Street

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [18]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Back Seat, Cuddling & Snuggling, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Imagine your OTP, M/M, Road Trips, Sleeping in the back seat, Sleepy Cuddles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, another one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:06:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3637860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" “You're the one with the shitty directions that obviously got us lost."<br/>Ian bites the inside of his cheek. “I told you the right directions you just followed them wrong with your shit sense of road knowledge.” "</p><p>-- Imagine your OTP going on a road trip and getting lost in the middle of nowhere so they just kinda snuggle up in the backseat and sleep</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Can Park In The Back Street

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt me : im-an-angel-y0u-ass.tumblr.com  
> I would love to write some specific things for you guys

“ _See,_ this is why we needed a fucking Satnav, not your shitty made-up directions!” Mickey repeated for the third time in the last five minutes. They had set off around ten in the morning, and still they haven't found a place they could stay or just _eat_ in for the night. It was nearing midnight and all they could see, or seen all day, was; grass, trees, more grass. Oh yeh.. how about grass with lots of trees. Mickey had been stressed from the word go, where as Ian was equipped and bouncing at the excitement of not knowing where they would end up. “Ian I swear to fuck stop bouncing your god-damn leg.”

 

Raising his hands in surrender, Ian stopped the motion of his thigh. “ _God,_ calm down stress-head.”

 

Clenching his fists, Mickey tries his hardest not to punch in the face. “Shut the fuck up, this is all your fault, Gallagher.” He drives faster, the wheels burning rubber as they fast-lane down the empty road.

 

“Don't blame me for this, you're the one fucking driving!” Ian bites back, pulling open the glove compartment in search of a map. They had taken the car from Iggy, so God knows what they might find hiding in the seats of the truck. “Shit, where the _fuck_ is the map?”

 

Mickey grunts impatiently, “You're the one with the shitty directions that _obviously_ got us lost.”

 

Gasping with shock, from the lame accusation, Ian bites the inside of his cheek. “I told you the right directions you just followed them wrong with your shit sense of road knowledge.”

 

Mickey rubs his face with the back of his hand, the road seeming longer and more quiet than he had ever experienced before. Especially when Ian was biting his head off because they were _lost._ “Will you shut the fuck up? I can't think straight with your mouth spurting bullshit all over the place.”

 

Ian shakes his head in disbelief, “Will you just shut the fuck up – _la de dar dar dar-_ shove it up your ass, Mickey.” Ian imitated, his laughter slightly delayed but he couldn't believe what a dick Mickey was being, just because they had been following the same road all day. In a sudden default, Ian grabs the steering wheel unexpectedly and skids them to the side of the road.

 

“What the _fuck,_ Ian _?!_ ” Mickey's voice was clear over the sliding off the wheels against the concrete, the car shudders to a stop, the wheels burning against the toad beneath it. Ian shrugs his shoulders and continues to break the car; he turns off the engine, draws the windows up, all whilst holding Mickey away from the wheel. Mickey slaps his hands, harshly. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Why the hell did you do that?”

 

Ian could tell Mickey was stressed as impatient as fuck, but he liked it. Smiling crookedly, he answered. “Well, we're lost so what's the point in driving all night? You need to sleep, Mick!” Mickey's hands were still at the steering wheel, his body frigid and most likely pissed off to the max.

 

Mickey turns to look at the younger man, unimpressed. “If we're fucking lost we need to keep moving not taking an unneeded pit stop in the middle of fuck-knows central.” He shakes his head and begins to get a little annoyed. Ian smiles, as if he knows Mickey's anger will soon wash off once he notices that Ian is the most adorable fucker in the world.

 

“I'm fucking freezing.” Mickey moans, the hearing not working at all anymore.

 

 

A couple of hours later they still hadn't moved from the side of the road. Mickey had moved to the back seats, alone, his body trying to radiate any warmth through his coat that was pulled tightly around him. The two hadn't spoke for nearly an hour, apart from the occasional “fuck off” or “Move”. Mickey talks first, he hated Ian's silence as much as he hated people stealing his jello. “Ian, you getting back here or what?”

 

“Didn't know you wanted me there.” Ian consciously remarks, his smile a little greedy because he knew what Mickey's answer would be.

 

“Fuck off and come back here you big fairy.” Mickey reached out and grabbed onto Ian's arm, he pulls on him until the redhead is stumbling backwards, nearly knocking his head against the roof, and then sitting in the middle of the back seats, with Mickey literally on his lap. “I'm fucking freezing.” Mickey whines again.

 

“I think we get that, Mr Romance.” Ian uses his hands to rub into Mickey's arms, they both squeeze into the back seats. Mickey sighs heavily, watching as Ian reaches down for an empty flask. “No seriously, If this is Romance then we ain't doing this shit again, my balls are literally about to drop off.”

 

Ian tuts, “We wouldn't want that would we?” With a grin he moves his position. He manoeuvres himself around, resting his back against the car window, and his legs length ways against the back seat. Mickey protests and frowns towards Ian. “What the hell are you doing, Gallagher?”

 

“Shut up and lie on me.” Ian orders, opening his legs so Mickey could slip inbetween them. Mickey groans and slowly tries to move around in the cramped space, he lies back onto Ian, after nearly squishing his balls. “ _Mickey,_ move that elbow – it's digging into my- _shit,_ don't pinch there you dick.” Finally, when Mickey makes it in the space, his back against Ian's chest, the redheads arms around his torso, he feels himself warm up.

 

“This shit is so gay.” Mickey utters, knocking his head back with a thump against Ian's chest.

 

Ian chuckles and pulls Mickey up further against himself, reaching for one of Mickey's hands against the brunettes chest. “You're only just getting that now? I knew you were slow Mickey but not that _slow.”_

 

Mickey uses his freehand that isn't occupied by Ian's, to swat the fucker across the head. “Shut the hell up, I'll kick your ass later.”

 

“Oh will you now?” Ian challenges.

 

Mickey turns a little, to his side, burying his head within Ian's coat. “Go to sleep Gallagher.” Ian's arms tighten around him, one thumb brushing against the exposed skin on his hip.

 

By Ian's giggle, he knows what that means. “No, Ian. We ain't fucking in the back seat. As inviting as it fucking sounds I ain't getting stuck inbetween the fucking chairs.”

 

He could literally feel the pout. “ _Aw,_ Come on Mickey.”

 

“Go to sleep before I sleep in the front.” Mickey gives him an offer, grinning against Ian's jumper as he knew he had won him over. Ian's heavy sigh and shift of movement told Mickey he got that boy right around his finger – well, he felt more around his heart but the saying wouldn't fucking fit that realistic thought.


End file.
